Chapter 22: The Rebirth

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"I figured you were awake."

Draco Malfoy could have sworn to saw the faint outline of his soul jump up from his body at the sudden break of silence. He turned around from his chair, the moonlit image of Emily glowing at the doorframe of his bedroom. She stood there, barefoot, clad in coordinating lilac t-shirt and shorts, looking at Draco with great big eyes.

She was wearing something with sleeves, to which the boy supposed was a good thing since it meant her temperature was cooling down to normal. Draco felt compelled at the sight of her, drawn like the ocean under the full moon. She hadn't said a word and yet, he already stood up and approached Emily; Draco moved quickly, far too much that even she stepped back in surprise.

 She hadn't said a word and yet, he already stood up and approached Emily; Draco moved quickly, far too much that even she stepped back in surprise

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"Hi."

A smile dawned on her face. "Hi yourself." Emily leaned against the doorframe. And by the warmth her actions gave, Draco's worry melted away. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"You have steady hands, right?"

Though this would count as the many peculiar questions she had ever asked, Draco couldn't hold back a look of deranged amusement. What on earth is she planning? "As far as steady goes, I believe so."

"That's good enough for me. Let's go." Emily took him by the wrist and dragged him through two flights of stairs, leading him to the attic. Draco knew to trust her with everything, even his life he would willingly thrust into her control, but an unmistakable chill ran past his neck.

Smack in the middle of the loft was a large plastic sheet that covered the wooden floor, and on top of it was a tall stool and a pair of shears.

"I do hope I didn't just walk into my murder scene."

"You know, I didn't think about that," Emily said, unaware of how badly, and mindlessly, terrible her room was displayed. "Think of it this way! I'm a witch, I don't need any of these to murder you – "

Draco speedily turned to his right, clasping her hand against her lips. "Stop yammering. I know you're nervous to have me here – yes, it does show and yes, I am just as nervous to be here with you. Just tell me why you brought me here." He unhurriedly lowered his hand, raising his eyebrows as he continued to watch her choose her words.

"I need you..."

"Okay?"

"To cut my hair."

Flabbergasted by the sudden flow of events, he froze there trying to comprehend why Emily would choose him for such a task of which he had no talent whatsoever. Draco blinked rapidly at her which Emily had digested as a misinterpretation of what she said. The Potter twin stepped on the plastic square and took the long-legged shears in her hands, "I know this is weird, but will you just help me?"

"Sit down." Was all Draco could say. He was thankful for even receiving a sentence from her, what more if it was another stimulating round of conversation while this odd activity?

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